An Inkling
by Cayenne Pepper Powder
Summary: If he’d had time to reflect, he would have realized that some hidden part of him already knew what was going to happen. One shot, DMC Spoilers.


A/N: I've had this idea in my head since I first watched DMC. Then it nagged at me until I wrote it down. I originally just had this posted on my LJ, but I figured I might as well post it here too. So, voila!

**An Inkling**

--

If he'd had time to reflect, he would have realized that some hidden part of him already knew what was going to happen. Maybe the thought hadn't been considered at that precise time, but it had been there nonetheless.

It was because of this that he finally forced himself to stop rowing. His arms were aching. The water seemed entirely too calm for the horror that played out before him; the ocean was too quiet for the screams of death and moaning of wood as it was ripped and torn and discarded like paper.

The _Pearl_. His ship.

She was already beyond repair. Everything that he had finally attained after so many years was crumbling to pieces before his very eyes. Control had finally escaped him.

He hadn't felt this torn in a long time.

His ship, his crew. Will. Elizabeth.

His hands sought the compass. He flipped it open with a sense of impending dread. The answer it gave him…perhaps he had already known. That damned, small part of him.

It was with a sense of determination and overhanging doom that he returned to the _Pearl_, his broad strokes with the oars seeming far too slow yet taking him entirely too far. The moment his fingers touched the aged wood of his ship he almost wished that he could sneak aboard as stealthily as he had crept off – and no one would notice he'd been gone. He would have never _almost_ abandoned his ship.

These worries left his mind as he clambered aboard. His mind was set on evading the kraken's hellish tentacles even as members of his crew were swept up in its grasp. He forced himself to ignore it. To ignore the damage done to the _Pearl_, even though it was glaring him in the eyes.

That small part of him tried to make itself known as he took in the situation. An inkling of something had seeped into his conscious mind, yet he discarded it because he knew what he had to do. Get the gun, take aim at the barrels suspended above the _Pearl's_ deck. Shoot.

If he couldn't save his ship he could save his crew. Or those who were left.

Jack barely took notice of Elizabeth's surprised look as he placed his boot on the weapon. Her eyes were wide as she gaped up at him. He ignored it. This deed was his to do.

He didn't hesitate when he took aim. He pulled the trigger.

It all ended there. His freedom. His life.

He lowered the gun with no triumph. He had not won.

_Abandon ship_, were the words he spoke next. Gibbs squinted at him, the words sounding as foreign to the first mate as they did to the captain.

He surveyed the destruction done to his _Pearl_ as the remnants of his crew loaded into the boat that he had just attempted to escape on.

_A captain always goes down with his ship_. Those words, spoken by someone who may or may not have been important, echoed in Jack's mind. What a time to remember such things, as he stood on the deck of his ship for the last time.

When he turned, Elizabeth was standing there. She was the last to leave, looking dishevelled and for some reason apologetic.

It was a blur to him. The kiss. It was powerful, and he felt weak, but he was sure it wasn't because of her.

The peculiarity of her actions occurred to him only moments before a familiar _click_ echoed like a proverbial door slamming shut. The shackles connected to the mast were latched and locked. And he was prisoner, a captain chained to his sinking ship.

She spoke words then. Explaining, apologizing. _It's the only way…_

He smirked at her, although he was sure he looked less than forgiving. _Pirate._

She was right, of course. She had always been clever – more than she was given credit for. He admired that about her. Willing to do whatever it took, just as he would. _Peas in a pod, darling…_

Then she – they were gone. Their freedom was still intact.

As for him, that small part that had known something like this would happen now presented itself in all it's glory. A panic seeped into his veins.

There was only one thing left for him to do, of course. With one last show of Sparrow ingenuity, and he had freed himself from the cuff. This meagre liberty was bitter as he turned to face the fate he'd already known was waiting for him.

_It's after you,_ she'd said.

Well, _it_ apparently hadn't been fully informed as to who he was.

Or maybe it had, since it so kindly gave up his hat. With a sense of delayed time, he returned it to its rightful place atop his head and unsheathed his sword.

He faced the gaping jaws of hell...

_Hello, Beastie._

…and didn't hesitate to go down with a fight.

_You forgot one very important thing, mate…_

_I'm Captain Jack Sparrow._


End file.
